Pilots.

[Jaydee]

 

 
You see them at airport terminals around the world. You see them in the morning early, sometimes at night. 
 
They come neatly uniformed and hatted, sleeves striped; wings over their left pocket; They show up looking fresh.
  
There's a brisk, young-old look of efficiency about them. They arrive fresh from home, from hotels, carrying suitcases, battered briefcases, bulging, with a wealth of technical information, data, filled with regulations, rules.
  
They know the new, harsh sheen of  Chicago 's O'Hare. They know the cluttered approaches to  Newark ; they know the tricky shuttle that is Rio; they know but do not relish the intricate instrument approaches to various foreign airports; they know the volcanoes all around  Guatemala. 
 
They respect foggy  San Francisco . They know the up-and-down walk to the gates at  Dallas , the  Texas  sparseness of  Abilene , the very narrow Berlin Corridor,  New Orleans ' sparkling terminal, the milling crowds at  Washington . They know  Butte  ,  Boston  , and  Beirut  . They appreciate  Miami 's perfect weather; they recognize the danger of an ice-slick runway at JFK.
 
They understand short runways, antiquated fire equipment, inadequate approach lighting, but there is one thing they will never comprehend: Complacency. 
 
They marvel at the exquisite good taste of hot coffee in  Anchorage  and a cold beer in  Guam . They vaguely remember the workhorse efficiency of the DC-3s, the reliability of the DC-4s and DC-6s, the trouble with the DC-7 and the propellers on Boeing 377s. They discuss the beauty of an old gal named Connie. They recognize the high shrill whine of a Viscount, the rumbling thrust of a DC-8 or 707 on a clearway takeoff from Haneda, and a Convair. The remoteness of the 747 cockpit. The roominess of the DC-10 and the wonderfully snug fit of a DC-9. They speak a language unknown to Webster. 
 
They discuss ALPA, EPRs, fans, mach and bogie swivels. And, strangely, such things as bugs, thumpers, crickets, and CATs, but they are inclined to change the subject when the uninitiated approaches. 
 
They have tasted the characteristic loneliness of the sky, and occasionally the adrenaline of danger. They respect the unseen thing called turbulence; they know what it means to fight for self-control, to discipline one's senses.
 
They buy life insurance, but make no concession to the possibility of complete disaster, for they have uncommon faith in themselves, their crew and what they are doing. 
 
They concede the glamour is gone from flying. They deny a pilot is through at sixty. They know tomorrow, or the following night, something will come along they have never met before; they know flying requires perseverance and vigilance. They know they must practice, lest they retrograde. 
 
They realize why some wit once quipped: "Flying is year after year of monotony punctuated by seconds of stark terror." As a group, they defy mortality tables, yet approach semi-annual physical examinations with trepidation. They are individualistic, yet bonded together. They are family people. They are reputedly overpaid, yet entrusted with equipment worth millions. And entrusted with lives, countless lives, behind and below him. 
 
At times they are reverent: They have watched the Pacific sky turn purple at dusk and the stark beauty of sunrise over  Iceland  at the end of a polar crossing. They know the twinkling, jeweled beauty of  Los Angeles  at night; they have seen snow on the  Rockies. 
 
They remember the vast unending mat of green Amazon jungle, the twisting Silver road that is the father of waters, an ice cream cone called Fujiyama; the hump of Africa. Who can forget Everest from 100 miles away, or the ice fog in  Fairbanks in January?
 
They have watched natural and man-made satellites streak across a starry sky, seen the clear, deep blue of the stratosphere, felt the incalculable force of the heavens. They have marveled at sun-streaked evenings, dappled earth, velvet night, spun silver clouds, sculptured cumulus: God's weather. They have viewed the Northern Lights, a wilderness of sky, a pilot's halo, a bomber's moon, horizontal rain and snow, contrails and St Elmo's Fire. 
 
Only an aviator experiences all these.
 
It is their world.  It once was mine. 

It will be missed, forever

[Kip Powick]

From the same page......

 

 

"Why I Want To Be A Pilot"

When I grow up I want to be a Pilot because it’s a fun job and easy to do. That’s why there are so many Pilots flying around these days.

Pilots don’t need much school, they just have to learn to read numbers so they can read instruments. I guess they should be able to read road maps too, so they can find their way if they get lost.

Pilots should be brave so they won’t get scared if it’s foggy and they can’t see, or if a wing or a motor falls off they should stay calm so they’ll know what to do.

Pilots have to have good eyes to see through clouds and they can’t be afraid of lightning or thunder because they are much closer to them than we are.

The salary Pilots make is another thing I like. They make more money than they know what to do with. This is because most people think that plane flying is dangerous, except Pilots don’t because they know how easy it is.

There isn't much I don't like, except girls like pilots and all the stewardesses want to marry them and they always have to chase them away so they won’t bother them.

I hope I don’t get airsick because I get carsick and if I get airsick I couldn’t be a Pilot and then I would have to go to work.

Tommy Tyler, Fifth Grade 
 

 

[Vsplat]

Kip, I think I heard a live rendition of that during a recent 'combined' session at ART, but the speaker was no longer in grade 5....

Vs

 

[blues deville]

“You see them at airport terminals around the world. You see them in the morning early, sometimes at night. 
 They come neatly uniformed and hatted, sleeves striped; wings over their left pocket; They show up looking fresh.”

As seen at ORD on 16 Oct 2017.

[Kip Powick]

I remember talking to a fellow who saw his 747 from a distance.

He asked why it had the bulge on top.

I told him it was required to hold the pilot's ego.

[deicer]

A quick question if I may.

When did the rules change on pilots being allowed to have beards?  I thought it was the rule to be clean shaven to make for a better seal on the oxygen masks.  Please correct me if I'm wrong.

As an aside, for those who have beards, y'all do look like Captain Obvious.

 

[deicer]

Just noticed the other thread.....

 

[Seeker]

3 minutes ago, deicer said:

 

When did the rules change on pilots being allowed to have beards?  

 

You obviously haven't been to an airport for a while (or maybe aren't that observant).  Yes, I realize you have seen the other thread and now know the whole story.

[blues deville]

14 minutes ago, Kip Powick said:

I remember talking to a fellow who saw his 747 from a distance.

He asked why it had the bulge on top.

I told him it was required to hold the pilot's ego.

Wasn’t it also so the captain could sit on his wallet?

[deicer]

1 hour ago, seeker said:

You obviously haven't been to an airport for a while (or maybe aren't that observant).  Yes, I realize you have seen the other thread and now know the whole story.

Respectfully, I have probably spent more days in airports than you.  Not only days, but hours in the days...

As for observation, that is why I question things.

[Moon The Loon]

4 hours ago, deicer said:

Respectfully, I have probably spent more days in airports than you.  Not only days, but hours in the days...

As for observation, that is why I question things.

It is always good to question things! Keep 'em coming!

[Moon The Loon]

About 10 years ago, I gave a Christmas gift of an introductory flight to each of my sister's 3 kids, my two nieces and nephew. Since then, they've completed high school, paid their own way through university, gotten their degrees. How did they pay? They've been tree planting ever since the oldest tried it 6 years ago. They've all spent every summer since doing just that and making REAL money ($45K in 4 months!). There is no lack of work ethic in these kids, now all in their very early 20's. The oldest niece wanted to become a teacher and, after finishing Nippissing, went to Australia to get her teacher's certificate (recognized in most provinces here in Canada). After 2 years, she's back. What did she do this summer? PLANTED MORE TREES! The middle one, my nephew is finishing his Business degree at Ryerson, is unsure of what he wants to do, has a long-time steady girl friend who has just graduated Photographic Arts, Motion Picture Production, at Ryerson (the EXACT same course I did back in the early 70's but never completed) (my nephew never knew about my taking that course!). My youngest niece is just completing her degree at UofO in languages and international affairs. She had planned on traveling the world with CIDA (or whatever that entity calls itself today.)

OKAY. So what does this post have to do about aviation?

Well, I just learned that the youngest (CIDA hopeful) has enrolled herself in an aviation course at Algonquin College, is going to get her flying license then pursue a career in aviation.

All I could say was WOW. That gift that was planted 10 years ago has blossomed into this. I hope she does well and spends a couple years doing what most of us did in one form or another before going into the airlines, which seems to be her goal.

Of course, her Uncle Moon will do anything he can to assist her along the long and winding road of our profession and wishes her to be safe and well in the coming years!